


Kirkwall Rising

by Tlern467



Category: Dragon Age II
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-09
Updated: 2021-02-02
Packaged: 2021-03-13 18:27:12
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 7
Words: 10,828
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28657944
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tlern467/pseuds/Tlern467
Summary: A contemporary AU about Hawke arriving in Kirkwall. She also has to deal with her feelings for Merril.
Comments: 4
Kudos: 3





	1. Entre Acte

Ashes Rising 

Chapter 1: Entre Acte 

Hawke stepped out of the rain into the shelter of the motel awning. Her entire body throbbed with a deep seated exhaustion-she picked up her first red eye flight after getting the call. The situation in Kirkwall was beginning to escalate and the Denerim office sent her to find out what was going on. She only had time to pack one full suitcase and a carry on, so she packed light.   
The clerk at the motel was a young woman with mouse brown hair in a short bob cut.   
"Welcome to the Seabreeze motel," she said.   
"Lucky I found this motel-seems like most are full up in the city. Any idea what's going on?"   
"You...from out of town?" the woman said evasively. She was suddenly nervous. Whatever for?   
"Yeah-just flew in today."   
"Oh. Well, we do have some rooms, but...you'd be better off staying away from the city."   
"Why is that?"   
The clerk didn't answer, and Hawke wasnt in the mood to press her. "I'll take a room then for the next couple nights."   
The clerk indicated to the card reader. Hawke grabbed her office's card and swiped it for the amount on the pad. The clerk sighed a bit then smiled and said, "Enjoy your stay." 

The room itself was pretty modest but comfortable. Hawke took off her shoes and put the pair neatly by the door. She rolled her suitcase in and dropped her carry on bag next to the full size bed in the center of the room. Hawke opened up her suitcase and retrieved her lounge clothes, then walked over to the small travel shower where she washed up and changed out of her clothes from the flight and pulled the hairclips out of her hair. 

She placed her cell phone on the nightstand and grabbed the remote to turn the television on to the news. 

"Welcome to Kirkwall Channel 7," the announcer said. "I'm Fred Matthews with your world news headlines. First up-cases of a strange sickness only being referred to as the Blight are on the rise. Kirkwall officials continue to assure that proper containment measures are in effect."   
Hawke let the news drone on in the background while she scrolled on her phone.   
"Next up-on highlights at 6, more about the refugees coming from Ferelden."   
She listened a bit more attentively, but the news didn't have much to say that she didn't already know from her briefing before she left.   
Hawke settled into the comforts of the motel bed and let her eyes close. The exhaustion she felt from the flight was beginning to catch up to her. She'd have more time to assess the situation and her place in it once she got to the station. For now, Hawke had to put her anxiety to rest as best she could. She had the feeling this case was gonna be the biggest of her career but also the most dangerous.


	2. Kirkwall

Chapter 2: Kirkwall 

Hawke's ears hummed. She looked over with bleary eyes to her phone; someone was calling. What time was it?? Her phone continued to ring, she sat up in bed and looked at her phone. Hmmm-not a number she recognized. She picked up the phone.   
"Hello?"   
"Is this investigator Hawke?"   
"Speaking..."   
"You don't know me very well-we only had a few exchanges. But I'm a friend of sorts, and a friend is what you're going to need."   
"I'm listening."   
"When you're ready, meet me at Whisper Park. Know where it is?"   
"Roughly-still could use a refresher though."   
"Just off 2nd and Crescent in Harbortown."   
"Got it."   
"See you then." The phone call ended.   
Wait-they never agreed on the time. Well, whatever. Hawke just had a feeling, somehow, this "friend" was gonna know when she was arriving. 

She turned the TV back on and idly flipped through the channels until she settled on a talk show, "Bien Jour, Orlais!" The anchors on were dressed in colorful but relatively restrained Orlesian fashion-purples and oranges mostly. Their guest was a professor on draconology.   
"Is it true that the University continues to take samples from the holy area believed to venerate Andraste?"   
"Well...yes, but we take great pains to keep the integrity of the original site. The nest of the high dragon worshipped by the Cult there is no longer active-it seems a battle took place there though we cannot be certain. There are many things we want to know, you see, so we may better worship the Maker."   
"Is it true that the Cult is still there?"   
"Oh no-the Chantry has chased those vagrants off. Where they went since, the University does not care," the professor said with a slightly indignant tone.   
"Well I know our viewers are relieved the site is back in good hands," an anchor said.   
"Oh yes, none more capable!"   
The conversation continued-anchors throwing softball questions at the guest, never directly talking about draconology. Seemed kind of strange they brought an expert in his field and not ask any questions in his field. Maybe she was reading too much into it. Almost like when Good Morning Ferelden had experts on the Blight on but rarely asked any meaningful questions. Like everyone was terrified just like back then-I mean, she was there when it happened. Admittedly, she was on the Storm Coast investigating for the Denerim office when the height of the epidemic, or whatever it was, hit.   
The question was-why? What was she missing? 

She got up and stretched. There was a coffee maker in her room, thank the Maker (if she believed in a Maker). She looked through vacuum sealed bags of coffee beans, taking in their aroma while she picked through which one she was gonna grind fresh for her pot. She ultimately settled on Anderfel mountain blend-though she had to admit she was surprised this mid range motel had coffee imported from there. She scooped some beans and ground them. The smell reminded her of the hummus and clay of home with an almost citrus tang. She took out a filter, placed it delicately in the coffee maker then the grounds and started her coffee. 

Her phone rang again, this time what must be a Kirkwall area code.   
"Hello?"   
"Is this Evelyn Hawke?"   
"Speaking."   
"My name is Aveline-I just wanted to introduce myself, since we'll be working together." the woman on the other end of the line had a distinctive Fereldan way of speaking. Another Fereldan native-interesting.   
"What can I do for you, Aveline?"   
"Just introductions for now. When you get into town, come and see me at the city county building. Third floor. Just ask for me at the receptionist. It'll be worth your while, I promise."   
"I suppose I can stop by," Hawke said.   
"Good. See you then." 

The coffee maker chimed, Hawke poured herself a cup in her travel mug she brought with her. One of the few pieces of tableware she regularly brought with her on investigations. She stirred in three scoops of sugar and a bit of powdered creamer. Hawke set her mug down on the night stand and sat back down on the bed. She rummaged through her carry on bag and pulled out a file.   
"Let's see here," she mused to herself and took a sip of her coffee. 

Dossier 1:   
The Arishok   
Self named title of the Qunari leader in Kirkwall.   
Height: Seven feet tall approximately   
Weight: Approximately 275 pounds   
Believed to be extremely dangerous, he and his standing militia have illegal checkpoints up that stop all commerce to Kirkwall from the sea. Temperamental. He is interested in nautical endeavors-could be a negotiating tactic. 

Dossier 2:   
The "Free" Mages of Kirkwall   
So called "free" mages are an underground group of unregistered talented and gifted individuals. Should be approached with extreme caution-some cells of this group are believed to participate in recent terrorist activity in the Free Marches. If any investigators find any "free" rebels, they must be returned to the Circle for registration and regulation. 

Dossier 3:   
The Templars   
A militia that works in cooperation with the Chantry, technically independent though. Investigators should tread warily around Templar spaces. There are rumors of so called "Red Templars", but these rumors have been largely unsubstantiated at this time. 

Persons of Interest:   
Isabela, last name unknown:   
Her nickname the Admiral, she is a prominent member in Kirkwall's underworld. Believed to have assisted Investigators in defusing tensions between Mages and Templars. A talented sailor. Approach with caution. 

Cassandra Pentaghast:   
Member of the Seekers, another affiliated militia with the Chantry. Intense religious fervor, may or may not see Investigators as a threat to her own investigation. 

She sipped her coffee again and looked up at the television. This time, a cooking segment where they were breading some type of seafood.   
Hawke put the files back in her carry on bag. But the summary was all the same: Kirkwall was a powderkeg primed to blow.   
She settled back into bed, fatigue from jet lag still getting to her. Rest-and she'd have clearer thoughts on the morrow.


	3. Meetings

Chapter 3: Meetings 

Hawke stepped out of her taxi to the large park. There was a cold, crisp autumn breeze stirring some of the earliest fallen leaves. It had been some time since she'd seen such a large piece of public land, though of course had heard stories of places like the Commons and so on.  
The woman who called her was standing by a small artificial pond. There was an air of authority but also...danger? The woman threw a few pieces of fish food and large fish gobbled up those bits of food before sinking back into the murky, plant choked depths. Two men in immaculate black suits stood equidistantly on positions to either side of the woman. Bodyguards most likely.  
Just who was this person? 

Hawke cautiously approached. There was nothing to it-she needed information, tools, whatever at the moment. She needed this woman more than the old woman needed her, that much Hawke could definitely ascertain. Then Hawke stopped a safe but respectful distance from the woman and her bodyguards.  
"Thank you for coming," the woman said, not bothering to turn from where she was feeding her fish. In her right arm was a handbag worth more than Hawke's salary twice over. So, immensely wealthy.  
"Brutus, Charlie, please wait in the car. I believe your presence is disturbing our guest."  
The two men gave the woman a quick hesitant glance. "Yes, madam," they said.  
The woman waited until the men did indeed walk to the sleek car and step inside before she spoke again. "There," she said with a sigh. "That's better now isn't it dear?"  
The woman turned around and...to say she was not what Hawke expected was an understatement. True the woman was old-older than Hawke, certainly. Crows feet were certainly present on the woman's temples. Her hair was a sleek gray, almost white. Deep creases formed around her mouth and subtle wrinkles on her face. Yet despite these signs of advanced age, there was an indeterminate, ageless quality about her at the same time. It was like she had stopped aging beyond what she was now. But that wasnt possible....was it? Just who was this woman?  
"For now, I am a friend," the woman said. Her smile was stiff, demanding but at the same time...genuine. "You walk into a dangerous nest of vipers, young Hawke. One wrong step, one ill timed feint and you get the viper's bite. That must not happen-your investigation, the truth, is far too important."  
"Why help me?"  
"Why not? I like you am very interested in the truth. But more importantly, I am interested in my world not imploding around me, which is what will happen if you do not intervene in Kirkwall."  
"I'm not sure I'm that special," Hawke replied.  
"Of course you don't," the woman cut her off. "Only a fool is certain of their importance in the fabric of events."  
"Okay...it's obvious you know who I am. But I still don't know who you are. Shouldn't I-since we're friends and all?"  
The woman smiled again, a sharpness flashing in her eyes. "Who am I? Well that's a question isn't it? Who am I..." she mused to herself. "Yes, I suppose a name will suffice for now. Yes. You may call me...Flemeth. Yes, Flemeth," the woman said.  
"Flemeth? As in Morrigan's mother?"  
"Perhaps, but perhaps not," the woman said with a slight cackle. "I am many things for many people. For now, like I said, I am a friend. You must succeed in your task in Kirkwall, Hawke. The city is poised treacherously on the brink."  
Flemeth fished out a ring that immediately sparkled in the autumn sun. There was a blood red gem of some kind in the center. Was it Hawke's imagination or did the ring's center get even darker red before her eyes? No, that was impossible.  
"Come closer child," Flemeth said, the first time in their entire exchange she was genuinely warm.  
Hawke hesitated, then did as the old woman requested.  
Hawke took the offered ring and placed it on the ring finger of her right hand. She winced when she felt it tighten around her finger, then a sharpness almost like a blade nicked her. The ring's gem pulsed once, twice then went still.  
Then Flemeth offered her hand. Hawke looked at her questioningly, but Flemeth didn't move or offer any explanation.  
Hawke reached out to the woman's hand, then the moment their skin touched things...shifted for Hawke. 

It was...painful, I suppose she could say. Painful in the way cold water is doused over an angry itch. She started hearing whispers just on the edge of sensation, unintelligible but present. Her vision changed too-colors and sights Hawke didn't even know existed. Phantom images in the gaps between. Everything whirled around her, like she was on a bad trip before things settled slowly back to the reality she knew. Flemeth was there, smiling.  
"What...just happened?" Hawke said.  
"I promised you I'd help," Flemeth said. "So...I gave you the tools you would need. My ring, just in case you cant dodge a viper bite. But most importantly heightened senses to see the fabric in between and to protect you from those same forces. Understand, Hawke, there's power at work that conventional means will not prevail against. And with that, I've given you all I can. The rest, as they say in the books, is up to you."  
Hawke nodded, though she was not confident she understood exactly.  
"You'll understand eventually child," Flemeth said. "Some things...just take time."  
"I suppose," Hawke said.  
Flemeth gave Hawke one last, sad smile. "I know, child. I know. Now leave me, I've done all I can for you."  
Hawke did as she was bidden. She waited until she was halfway away from the pond then turned around to give it one last look. The woman was gone. Not only that, but the pond itself was different. Overgrown, ill cared for. No fish could ever hope to live there now. The woman's car was gone as well, and no indication it had ever been there to begin with. All the signs of passing were gone-as if she had never existed.  
The ring tightened once more around her finger and she gave a small yelp as she felt little...teeth? nip at her finger. The ring was all too real. The phantom images just on the edge of sight were still there too-just as real as when she touched hands with the woman. How could a ring that bit her and these...sensations possibly help her? Just what was going on?  
There were no answers though for her in this park. She stepped into her taxi. 

She stepped out of her taxi. Hawkefound her quiet motel suddenly a hub of activity. The closer she got, the more she realized the activity was right around where she was staying. The clerk that checked her in the other night was crying over someone's corpse-a middle aged woman by the looks of it. Her skull split open on the concrete it looked like, but without a more detailed examination it would be impossible to tell the cause of death.  
"Oh thank goodness!" the clerk said. She rushed over and hugged Hawke. "I'm so glad you're okay!"  
Hawke took a longer look at the young woman. Her mousy hair was loose, she wore less makeup. The birth mark by her lip...  
"Marian?? Is that really you?"  
"Yes! It's me. It's been so long and...you were so tired the other night and..."  
"Why didnt you say something earlier?? I didn't recognize you, I mean..."  
Marian gave Hawke a small reassuring smile. "It's okay, really, sis."  
"What the hell happened here?"  
Marian looked down. "They found me."  
"No..."  
"Yeah."  
"But we did everything right..."  
"Don't blame yourself, sis. It was bound to happen. I'm just-I'm sorry it has. She was a good boss-she died protecting me, I'll never forget that," Marian said, gesturing at the dead body. "i never saw anything like those men before though sis. They were Templars but...there was something different about them. Like they were more animals then men. And their eyes, their eyes sis...they were red. Like bloodshot, but-the irises...they were red too. Their breath smelled like raw lyrium but even that was different."  
"Why didn't they take you?"  
"That's the thing-I don't know. They broke into your room, tossed a bunch of things around. Broke the tv too. Then when they found me out sweeping the front they put their hands on me and started pushing and pulling. Then headlights and they were gone."  
"Come with me to Kirkwall, sis," Hawke said. "I'm investigating something, and I'll find a way to keep you safe until you decide if you want to go."  
"But sis, what happens if those men come back?" she said.  
"We'll find a way together," Hawke said. Her ring tightened and then relaxed, as if soothed by what Hawke was saying. Great-a thinking ring. What's next-talking books, flying pigs?  
"Okay," Marian said. "Okay." 

"If I could interrupt for a moment?" Hawke looked around. "Down here," the voice said. "Channel 56 news, I'm associate reporter Varric Tethras," he said. The most notable feature about the short man was his conspicuously open shirt that showed his toned chest muscles and his nose ring. "Can I ask you both some questions?"  
"Umm...sure," Marian said.  
"Excellent! Now, right this way-" he gestured, not waiting for Hawke to say anything. He guided them both away from the crowd and the people examining Marian's boss's body.  
"Stop right there, where are you taking those women, Tethras?" a surly, authoritative woman who was never accustomed to being told no in her life was angrily crossing the parking lot toward them.  
"Great..." Varric mumbled.  
"Let us not forget you are a key witness in this entire case!"  
"But I thought you said you were a news anchor...?" Marian said.  
"Ha! He likes to think he is," the woman said. "Instead, he is an overblown baffoon of a man, a writer of novels, a-"  
"Yes yes, we all know what glowing praise you have for me. But these are the Hawke sisters, Seeker. I was-merely keeping them in place for you."  
"Is that so?" the Seeker said, a little too hard.  
She sauntered up to Hawke. "Do you know how hard it has been to track you down? The White Spire has questions for you, and you will answer immediately. We will detain you and-"  
Hawke pushed the woman away and held Marian close to her.  
"You aren't going to threaten me or my family. This isn't Val Royeux. I'm an Investigator, and if I spend even one night in your accomodating "jails" I will get a lawyer. And you know what I'm going to do then? I'm going to make sure that lawyer makes your day really, really shitty. Hell, maybe your entire week! So I suggest you back. the. fuck. off. Do we understand each other?" The woman stared back defiantly. "Well?!"  
Several moments the two women stared at each other.  
"Very well. But be warned, the Chantry will get its answers one way or another. Come on, Varric."  
Varric rolled his eyes. "When you get into Kirkwall, come see me and my lovely company in the Hanged Man!"  
The two walked back to their car and the car pulled away. The car was followed by other Templar cars in a surreal procession.  
"That was close, sis," Marian whispered.  
"Yeah well, no one messes with me or my family," Hawke said, with a little heat still in her voice. "Are you alright?"  
"Yeah-yeah, I'm just...shaken up."  
Hawke nodded.  
It was starting to rain. The scene all around the humble motel was one taken straight out of an old noir movie.  
Everything was going to change when they got to Kirkwall proper.


	4. Opportunities

Chapter 4: Opportunities 

"This your first time in downtown Kirkwall, miss?" the taxi driver asked.   
"Yeah," Hawke said.   
"Just watch yourself by Hawthorne and Cedar-rough neighborhood but even rougher nowadays," the driver said.   
The highway leading into Kirkwall was a six lane-the biggest roads in downtown Denerim were four lane at most with occasional carpool merging. In comparison, Kirkwall was massive in every way. Sleek skyscrapers, billboards of every fashion, plumes of smog and steam and in the distance the imposing black ships of the Qunari navy. So her dossier was inaccurate-these Qunari in the city were not just an upstart faction but something more. Upstart factions didnt have navies... 

The closer they got to the city, the more they saw checkpoints popping up with uniformed soldiers carefully observing. This was a city on edge, though it was trying to pretend it was not.   
Marian pressed Hawke's hand. She was clearly worried.   
"We'll be fine," Hawke gently reassured her sister. 

Traffic slowed to a crawl as the party approached one of the biggest checkpoints. Soldiers with dogs walked to each car, the soldiers letting the dogs sniff for contraband or explosives. Soldiers didn't bother to conceal their guns this time as they patrolled.   
Finally, after several tense moments, the patrol reached their car. Marian held her hand tightly. That's right-technically by the letter of the law Hawke's sister was a fugitive.   
A soldier knocked on the taxi window, and Hawke noticed the taxi driver was nervous when he hadnt been so far. The soldier knocked on the window again and the taxi driver slowly rolled the window down.   
"Thank you," the soldier said. "Papers please."   
The driver nodded to Hawke and Marian and grabbed the documents Hawke gave them.   
The soldier carefully perused each one-sometimes gesturing to the other soldiers around him. Hawke realized she was holding her breath. Why was she nervous?   
The taxi driver was slowly becoming more agitated the longer the inspection took.   
Finally, after moments that seemed to stretch for an eternity the soldier handed the papers back to the driver.   
But then, something changed. It was all so fast-even Hawke could barely process what was happening.   
"Get out of the car now!" the soldier shouted. "Now, now!" The soldier pointed a gun at the driver. The driver gave one sad look back at them then mouthed the words "Run, get out of here"   
The soldier didn't seem to see the driver mouth those words.   
The driver slowly put the papers on the seat next to him and then just as slowly got out of the car. The moment he did he was pressed against the hood of the car.   
"Don't fucking move, you hear me," the soldier growled. He slammed the butt of his rifle into the driver's cheek. The driver stiffened but did as the soldier demanded. 

Just then, more chaos.   
"What the fuck!?" the soldier shouted, then groaned in pain. All around them encased in a thick blinding smoke. The soldier holding the driver down knelt over double and masked men and women came into view. Hawke grabbed her papers from the seat and hurriedly put them back in her bag then gestured to Marian.   
The soldiers were driven back by the armed men and women. Dogs snarled and barked. Gun shots-one, two. Then the masked, armed men and women opened the car door and pushed Marian and Hawke out into the smog. "We gotta go, we gotta go," one of the masked people said. They pushed Marian and Hawke forward, while also helping the driver.   
Everything was like a horrid, fast moving dream in fog. 

Hawke didnt know how long she had been running, only that they finally stopped. The masked men and women guided Marian, Hawke and the driver into a nondescript building, up a few flights of stairs and into a bedroom of sorts.   
"Check the perimeter," one of the masked people said. The voice sounded feminine but Hawke couldnt be entirely sure. Two of the masked company nodded and descended down the stairs.   
"We'll wait a moment, but, you should be safe for now," the voice said to them.   
So they did, and the two masked people returned. "We're clear," they said.   
"Thank you. Take Tassen to the clinic."   
The two nodded and carefully guided the taxi driver, who must have been Tassen, out the door.

"Mind telling me what's going on?" Hawke asked.   
The masked people took off their masks. They were Elves-but all had a blue tattoo with the same symbol on their necks. The previously masked woman looked at the ring. "Well it looks like we came just in time too. Sorry to involve you and your sister in all this, investigator. Tassen's one of ours-well, sort of. The powers that be in Kirkwall don't like it when Elves assert their dignity. You already know by now the situation in Kirkwall is...tense and getting worse."   
"So why help me?"   
"Well partly because Tassen told us you were coming and we had to get Tassen out, part your ring there and part because you're already escorting a fugitive. Seemed in our best interest."   
"You know what this ring means?"   
"Oh yeah. The person who gave it is a friend of sorts to our people. She's helped our little band several times, rarely asks for anything in return. She doesn't choose people lightly. I doubt the soldiers know what that ring means, but they'd be just as likely to shoot you first ask questions later. Or worse."   
"What about my clothes?"   
"Yeah sorry about that. We couldn't risk taking any more time getting all your luggage. We'll find a way to get you more clothes for your stay and your job here investigator, don't you worry."   
"My room was attacked in the motel my sister was working at. Templars with red eyes, acting strangely. Seen anything more about that?"   
"Not much I'm afraid," the woman said. "They're called red templars but where they come from, what they want all that-still a mystery. We know they don't work directly with your everyday Templars, but the Templar order also wont hesitate to protect some of the higher ups who are also red."   
"Can you protect my sister from them?"   
"For now," the woman said. "We'll do what we can."   
"I suppose that's better than nothing."   
"Glad you agree," the woman said. "Let's get you settled. For now, our home is your and your sister's home." 

Hawke let herself be guided by the Elves. The house was pretty small and sparsely furnished with little in the way of furniture. Yet the Elves were happy being together, and she already could tell there was a genuine warmth here. The kitchen was small, with a vanity filled with dishes air drying. A few Elves sat on a small couch laughing and talking in smatterings of Elvhen that Hawke could piecemeal together.   
"It's small but its safe here," one of the Elves said. "As our leader said, you're welcome to stay here as long as you like."   
"Thank you for helping my sister," Hawke said.   
"Of course," the Elves said.   
Hawke went back up to her room and sat on the bed. Her ring tightened around her finger, then loosened again. She stood up and walked out of the room.   
"Yes?" an Elf asked.   
"I have someone I'm supposed to meet in Kirkwall. Varric Tethras in the Hanged Man."   
"Oh Varric," the Elf chuckled. "Yes, we know him. We'll take you there on the morrow."   
"Thank you," Hawke said. The Elf nodded respectfully. "Oh, and our leader wanted you to know you have fresh everyday clothes waiting for you in your room."   
"Oh. Thank you," Hawke said.   
The Elf nodded again.   
Hawke went back to her room and sure enough the clothes were there. They were loose and looked very comfortable. She grabbed the clothes and navigated the house until she found a bathroom with a small shower, where she washed off the scent of travel and dressed in the provided clothes. They felt softer than they looked.   
For now, she just had to wait. Wait until the morrow.   
Then hopefully she would start to get her answers.


	5. The Hanged Man

The Hanged Man

As promised, the Elves took Marian and Hawke with them early in the morning. The sun was just beginning to hazily rise, the skyscrapers casting looming pools of shadow in response. The Elves guided the sisters to a non descript station wagon where both got into the back seat. The Elves put the hoods of their sweaters up when they got into the car. The station wagon slowly revved and vibrated the first few shuddering movements. Hawke just hoped the station wagon wasn't going to be too out of place in this sleek urban Kirkwall. 

They passed the moments driving in silence-the Elves in the passenger seat were already on high alert for the first sign of trouble. Was freedom really worth all this constant fear? Marian was even affected by the nervous tension, and there was little Hawke could do. Marian was in just as much danger, if not more than the Elves that were helping them. 

The Elves were careful in the morning traffic to avoid the larger highways flowing through the city, instead electing for the narrower roads, often with cars still parked on one side or the other. Hawke could tell only that they were gradually getting closer to the port side of the city-the imposing black of the Qunari navy ships were slowly becoming just a bit more distinct in the distance. 

"We're almost there," the Elf in the passenger seat said, turning and smiling reassuringly. "Give Varric our regards would you?"   
"Will do," Hawke said. 

Just then the station wagon came to a jittery stop. "Quiet," the Elven driver whispered.   
There was nothing on the road ahead for several agonized minutes. Then suddenly, a patrol of Templars. But something was deeply wrong with them. All of their eyes were red, varying degrees of bloodshot. Some had what looked like lesions on their faces, red and angry. The larger Templars had enraged scarlet crystals growing haphazardly on one side of the body or the other, sometimes at the expense of living tissue. Every one of the patrol had the same barely restrained animalistic rage and hunger in their expressions. It seemed an eternity before the patrol finally shambled past them. The Elves waited a few terse moments before slowly starting the station wagon back up again. Then everyone took a relieved breath-it seemed all had been subconsciously holding their breath.   
"Damn, red templars this close to City Watch. Doesn't look good," the passenger Elf said.   
"No," the driver said softly. "They can take care of themselves though, you know that."   
"I know...it's just, I'm still worried."   
"It's okay," the driver said and the driver and the passenger pressed their foreheads together briefly. "Ma vhenan, it will be okay."   
The driver gave the passenger a soft kiss on the forehead then the two Elves looked back at the sisters and blushed slightly. 

The rest of the drive was relatively uneventful-though they heard sirens mere blocks away.   
"Here we are," the passenger said. The station wagon lumbered to a stop on a wide boulevard a few steps away. 

"Varric works...here?" Marian asked.   
The building itself was reclaimed from whatever it had been into something...extravagant. The Hanged Man sign was itself oversized for the building-a garish neon-yellow parade of lights. Strumpets danced provocatively in front of the building.   
"Good luck," the driver said.   
The sisters stepped out of the station wagon and slowly made their way to the building. Strumpets gestured to them as they passed, then quickly determined the two sisters were not their clientele and left them alone.   
The sisters stepped through the saloon style doors.   
Inside was just as extravagant as the outside but in a different flavor-hard music with an oppressive beat that made the sisters chests thump and ears ring, the rhythmic chimes of slot machines, smatterings of different conversation. Then there were the smells. Alcohol: the heaviness of stouts and lagers, crispness of cider, and the all-too-sweet after-tang of good sake. Perfume and cologne smells drifted from the upper floors where the strumpets and others conducted their business.   
"Ah!" a voice said and the sisters spun. Varric walked up to them. He was dressed in far more comfortable clothes for him-still with part of his chest revealed. Must be a thing with him, Hawke mused.   
His smile was big and genuine. "Welcome to the Hanged Man!" he said in a voice full of bravado like everything in the establishment. Some patrons raised their mugs in salute and drank deeply.   
"Glad you came," he said in a much lower voice. "Come with me-I talked my brother Bartrand into letting me use the conference room."   
Hawke shrugged, Varric led them.   
"Hi Varric," a strumpet said. "You mind telling your brother he's late paying us AGAIN?"   
Varric sighed. "Yeah, I'll take care of it Stacy."   
"You should've been in charge of this place," one of the other strumpets said. "At least we'd know we'd get paid on time."   
"Yeah," Varric said. "Yeah," he added, more to himself than anyone else. Hawke could tell there were some undiscussed family matters under the surface.   
"You're friends of Varric?" Stacy said.   
"Yeah, you could say so," Hawke said.   
"You're in good hands-whatever problems you got, Varric's a good problem solver if you get my drift."   
"Sure," Hawke said. Marian said nothing.   
"Good talking with you, Stacy," Varric said.   
"You too Varric," Stacy said with a genuinely warm smile. Whatever else Varric might be, the people at this establishment seemed to hold him in high regard. Varric's brother sounded like he might be trouble though. 

They reached the conference room and Varric gently closed the doors behind them. He eased himself into a comfortable small couch with a slight groan and gestured for the ladies to sit.   
"Gotta say Im interested why an Investigator and a mage apostate are in Kirkwall. Sounds like there's a story there," Varric said.   
"You're not gonna get in trouble with that Seeker?"   
He flashed a mischievous grin. "Oh I'm always in trouble with her."   
"Can you help me?" Marian asked quietly.   
"Yes and no," Varric responded. "Short term-yes. Long term's a bit more of a problem. Problem is, my brother's about as stubborn as a boulder and we're gonna need him if we're gonna get anywhere."   
"So I take it you're proposing something?" Hawke asked.   
"Of sorts. Think of it as a mutually beneficial arrangement."   
"Well we're here. Might as well here you out," Hawke said.   
Varric smiled. "You've figured out there's some strange things going on in the city. I've heard rumors that whole Carta clans are going rogue, Grey Wardens are acting strangely. There's these rumors of so called red templars, seen a few of them myself. I want your help figuring out what's going on with the Carta and the Grey Wardens. Plus my brother's organizing an expedition into the Deep Roads-if it goes well, Ill easily have the money to ship you anywhere you want to go. Right now my stuff's mostly locked down under my brother's management so I can't do much on my own. I want you to come along for that expedition."  
"Why me?"   
Varric nodded toward the ring. "Well for one that ring. Doesn't take a mage to tell whoever gave you that is very very powerful. Second, you're an Investigator. You have access I just don't have and you want those answers as badly as I do."   
"Okay, say I take you up on this. Can you at least get my sister somewhere safe to stay in the meantime?"   
"That I can do."   
"All right. I don't have too many leads at the moment. Seems I'll just have to trust you for now."   
"Fair enough," Varric said. He put out his hand. "Partners?"   
"Partners," Hawke said. She shook Varric's hand. The ring warmed briefly, almost like it was giving its nod of approval.   
"Where do we start?"   
"That I can help with too. I have a contact in the City Watch. You're uh, you're gonna have to go in alone and talk to her though."   
"Problems?"   
"Oh always," Varric chuckled. "Not for you though. In fact, if I know my Wicked Grace I know you're gonna be just the person she wants to see. While you're doing that Ill get your sis situated and look for my old pal Isabela."   
"The pirate?"   
"Heard of her?"   
"You could say that."   
"I sense another story. You'll have to tell me sometime."   
Just then a man rushed into the room. "Sorry to interrupt boss but Stacy gave me the warning about some roughs from the Templars. They're looking for one of the ladies."   
"Shit," Varric growled. "Are they in the Hanged Man?"   
"Yeah boss," the man said. "Stacy and her sisters are keeping them busy. But I got a bad feeling about them-their eyes were all bloodshot and such."   
Hawke frowned.   
"Okay Carl, thank you. Do what you can to keep Stacy safe. I'll take care of the rest."   
Carl bowed and closed the doors behind him.   
"Well shit," Varric said. "Seems like my plan A's not gonna work after all. Gotta go with plan B, maybe C. Still trust me?"   
"I suppose," Hawke said.   
He clicked a button and a secret wall opened with a quiet rumble. "Get in," he said.   
Marian went first, Hawke following behind her and Varric in the back. The secret wall rumbled closed.   
They meandered in the semi darkness, with Varric using a flashlight and handing one to the sisters.   
The dark was at first dry and warm, like a wine cellar. But that changed soon enough. It was cold and moist. The smell of sewage wafted around them.   
Their footfalls were on old hollowed out structures-most likely long abandoned maintenance tunnels. The modern sewage treatment system was far more automated.   
They kept going, Varric quietly giving the sisters directions as they went. So far no sounds of pursuit.   
They slowly weaved through the abandoned subterranean structures, gradually climbing upwards toward...something. 

They reached a solid metal door illuminated by a refurbished streeetlamp when Varric indicated to the women they should stop. "Let me handle this," he said. He stopped at the door then knocked once, a pause, two knocks, a pause, then three.   
A slit opened in the door. "Password."   
"Marigolds bandied festively by jesters," Varric said.   
The slit closed. Several mechanical clicks followed and the door groaned open.   
"Varric!" the sentry said with pleased surprise. "To what do we owe the surprise visit?"   
"Got another apostate. Templars with bloodshot eyes came into the Hanged Man looking for her, probably other apostates too."   
"Damn," the sentry said.   
"What about the Investigator?" the sentry asked warily.   
"Recognize the ring on her finger mate?" Varric asked.   
The sentry looked and gasped in surprise, then nodded. "Suppose if the Lady trusts her, we can too. Watch yourself though, Investigator."   
"I just want to help my sister," Hawke said.   
"We'll see," he said. "Well come on, follow me. Don't try anything."   
He led the party through the door and a few narrow hallways and a stairway. Then, a wide open well lit room. Blankets and duffel bags were spread out about the floor in makeshift beds.   
"Welcome to the Enclave," the sentry said. "Make yourself at home miss. You're welcome with us as long as you want."   
Marian walked forward, still cautious. Hawke just watched her go, and saw the genuine smile as she talked with others like her. She was safe for now, Hawke was sure of that. 

A man stepped away from the others. He was taller than the others, and there was a different quality to him though Hawke wasn't immediately sure what. He was handsome though, with a small mustache and a beard well groomed. His orange-brown hair was long but flowed majestically. Then there were his eyes-calm blue at one instant then tempestuous the next. But unlike the rage of the red templars, this conflict was more restrained. Calmer. Gentler. He wore a comfortable gown, though it was clear that was more for ceremonial practice than anything.   
"Varric," the man said peacefully. His voice was soft, soothing. Hawke could listen to him talk forever.   
"Anders," Varric said. "This is my friend Hawke."   
"An Investigator," Anders said. There was no accusation in his voice.   
"I hope her sister can find a home with you all," Varric said. "Was gonna have her stay at the Hanged Man, but red templars were already there. Stacy and her sisters kept them distracted long enough for us to get away..."   
"Brave souls," Anders said. "I thank you for trusting your sister to our care. We will do all we can to make her feel at home."   
"Thank you," Hawke said. She was relieved for the first time in days. It seemed like she was escaping danger after danger for days straight.   
"Tell me Varric, why else did you come all the way here? You rarely have social visits-though you are always welcome."   
"Well you know me, I'm very popular. Wouldn't want my adoring fans to find your little family," he said.   
"Ah," Anders said and nodded. "What about you?" he asked.   
"I'm just looking for the truth, and a way to keep my sister safe."   
"The truth?" Anders asked. "What if the truth is unpleasant?"   
"I am an Investigator, I'm accustomed to uncomfortable truths."   
Anders gave a small chuckle.   
"Actually, I was gonna take you up on your offer."   
"Oh?" Anders asked.   
"You said you would do whatever in your power to find out why the Wardens were acting strangely. I want you to come with me and Hawke while we investigate."   
"I'm not sure I would be of much help my friend. I have not been a Grey Warden in a very long time."   
"Maybe," Varric said. "You know more about them than anyone else I know, and I trust you."   
"Hmmm," Anders said, considering. He looked down and saw the ring on Hawke's finger. "Oh?" His fingers brushed her hand. "May I?"   
Hawke shrugged, Anders gently brought her hand up and carefully studied the ring. He smiled when the ring seemed to react to his presence. Hawke winced when the ring tightened and nipped her, as if in warning. The stormy presence inside Anders also appraised her. Hawke felt herself go cold when she felt the presence study her. There was no warmth in that presence-not a malevolence per se, but an unnerving sense of purpose-almost like all emotions had been burned away. The ring tightened again and only loosened when Anders returned. "Interesting," Anders said, more to himself than anyone else in particular. Anders closed his eyes and his breathing slowed. Hawke looked over at Varric and Varric shrugged.   
"Yes, yes I will go with you," Anders said. "Pray excuse me while I bid my farewells to my family."   
He walked away, and Hawke had the impression there were two beings walking in one body. 

While Anders conferred with his found family, Hawke took the time to visit with her sister and see her accomodations.   
"Sis, I think this is going to work this time! These people can teach me and..." she didn't let the thought finish.   
Hawke smiled. Her sister was safe for the first time in so long-so why was she sad?   
"I love you sis," Marian said and hugged Hawke. Both women found themselves gently crying, and neither said a thing about it. 

"Feel better?" Varric asked. Hawke nodded.   
Anders walked back to them and took a deep breath. "My family is sad, but they understand. It is time," Anders said, but the way he talked seemed more the other presence than Anders himself.   
"Ready?" Varric said.   
"As ready as can be," Hawke said. She looked back at her sister. She couldn't help the feeling this would be the last time in some time she'd see her sister.   
Her ring warmed on her finger.   
Anders smiled, but the smile gave Hawke a bit of a chill. It was not Anders' smile but the presence that shared his body. 

Their return trip was a bit more straight forward, and they didn't even come close to the underground sanitation station. The ground gently rose up in an easy slope until they emerged. It was late afternoon, they were quite a distance from the Hanged Man or Anders and Marian's family.   
"What's next?" Anders asked.   
"There's some weirdness in Vinedusk," Varric said. "But you should probably visit our mutual friend at the Watch before anything," Varric said.   
"Yeah. Less obstacles to my investigation the better," Hawke said.   
"City Watch, eh? Well, why not?" Anders said.   
Her ring warmed again in approval. Well, at least that was promising.   
Hawke was back on the case, as it were.


	6. Tensions

Chapter 6: Tensions 

As agreed, the party set out early in the morning. It would take some time to get to the city center where the City Watch headquarters were. Anders shook sleep from his eyes. Was it Hawke's imagination or did Anders look like he hadn't gotten any sleep at all? He certainly appeared more haggard than yesterday.   
They took a taxi to the nearest transit station where their first subway was scheduled to arrive.   
"Looks like our train's supposed to come in half an hour," Varric said. "There's a coffee stall over there," he pointed. "Think you could use a cup eh Hawke?"   
Hawke just nodded and let Varric lead her and introduce her to the local staff. Anders decided to wait at the shelter.   
There wasn't much of a line-maybe two, three people in front with simple orders. Hawke's order was pretty simple as well-a little bit of foamed milk, a couple scoops of sugar, a splash of creamer, a small dusting of cocoa dust. Varric's cup of coffee was a bit more extravagant-and also pricier. He ordered a mocha cappuccino.   
Their drinks in hand, the two walked back over. A few more people started congregating at the stop, but it still wasn't as busy as Hawke was expecting.   
Hawke enjoyed her coffee. She felt the caffeine start to take effect. Varric smiled to himself.   
The subway train pulled in. Doors slid open with a hiss.   
Hawke felt a chill down her spine, Anders was already inside the train. Varric gestured for her to board as well. The frosty chill intensified, and Varric gestured for them to move further back in the train.   
"Shit!" Varric hissed. "Quick Hawke, look at a magazine, something. Anders, pull up your hood." 

"What the-?!" the driver said in a very abrupt accent. The train was just about to start when the chill intensified in her spine. Hawke couldn't shake that she was in terrible, terrible danger. Anders was becoming more agitated.   
"Look miss, I got a schedule to keep or my boss'll flay my hide! There a reason for this?"   
The voice that answered was firm and icy cold, but somehow also with thinly restrained hostility-even hatred. "There is always a reason. Are you really in the mood to question Meredith, head of the Kirkwall Templars?"   
The driver didnt say anything.   
Hawke saw the stern woman wave the templars forward out of the side of her eye. Their boots clanged harshly as they walked.   
Hawke looked up a fraction more to see that some of the Templars had red blood shot eyes and the beginnings of red pulsing crystals forming on the edges of their armor.   
The Templars slowly, methodically marched along the aisles. Anders was trying to stay calm.   
Just as the Templars were two aisles away, the woman Meredith raised her hand.   
"Come on," a templar said gruffly. They muscled what appeared to be a couple out of their seats.   
"W-What, what's going on?" the man asked, panicked.   
"Let's go," the templar growled and shoved them further off the train.   
"We got what we came for," she said. "I suggest not to impede any templar investigations in the future," she said to the driver. "Templars, move out!"   
There was a collective hush, the panicked sobs of the couple, and the templars were gone as fast as they arrived.   
No one dared to move, as if everyone was terrified the templars would change their minds and return. When it was clear the Templars were indeed gone, and their stern leader with them, the entire train seemed to let out a collective sigh of relief.   
"Sorry for the service interruption, folks," the driver said over the PA. "Thank you again for riding with Kirkwall Public Transit, we'll be departing shortly."   
The train did indeed start, but all the passengers were in an uneasy mood. No one dared to talk-as if everyone was afraid merely speaking would bring the Templars back, and more men and women on their way to work would disappear.   
"Sad isn't it?" Varric said in a hushed tone. "Way of life for these folks. They know the Templars could seize a bus or a train and detain any one of them, and there's not a damn thing they can do. Everyone's afraid."   
"Why isn't the mayor doing anything about it?"   
Varric chuckled and sighed. "The Mayor? More a figurehead than anything. The city's been on edge since before the Qunari came in and de facto blocked our ports. Now the Templars and the Chantry have more real power than any of the city council or the mayor."   
A few passengers looked over at them fearfully but didn't do anything else.   
"Someone has to do something," Hawke said.   
"The people are afraid, and the Chantry tightens its grip-tighter and tighter and tighter," Anders said. There was something different in his face-a glimpse into the other presence that seemed to share space with Anders. This other presence-Hawke couldn't ignore it made her uneasy. Something about it just didn't set right. Anders fists tightened until his fingernails dug in and his palms bled. "But no one does anything, just stands by and lets it happen."   
"I got a feeling that's why you're here," Varric said. "Help get things settled well and truly."   
Hawke shrugged. Her ring tightened around her finger and warmed. There was no doubt seeing these injustices made her angry-but what was she going to do? She was just a foreign investigator. Assuming there was any country to come back to of course-stories back home said the Blight was getting worse and worse. The ring tightened against her finger and she winced.   
Right. She'd figure out something. She had to.   
The ring loosened and cooled.   
"We're almost there," Varric said. He finished off his cappuccino and Hawke took the chance to finish off her coffee that was now lukewarm. 

The train pulled into the station. "Thank you again for riding with us at Kirkwall public transport. Have a safe and pleasant day."   
The party stepped out into the station downtown. The sun was just beginning to shine behind the monolith of skyscrapers.   
"Whew," Varric said. "Okay, city guard HQ isn't far now." 

They maneuvered past food stalls just beginning to cook, bakeries starting their early morning business, coffee shops. Men and women in suits and fancy outfits walked hurriedly to firms or toward the shining capitol building in the center. It was a majestic dome that towered over everything else in the city center.   
"Really something aint it?" Varric said appreciatively. "Sometime Ill have to tell you one of my tales from there," he added. "This way, a couple blocks left." 

The HQ itself was not as large as Hawke had imagined previously, it was actually about the size of a Denerim building interestingly enough. The lettering on the front of the building had seen better days- it read: PUBLIC SAFETY AND CITY WATCH BUILDING, 2209 MAIN ST, KIRKWALL, KIRKWALL   
"Aveline's office is on the second floor. I have some business to take care of here, but we'll all meet up after. Sound good?"   
Hawke shrugged. She honestly had no idea but she imagined her training in Denerim would prepare her for any meeting with a bureaucrat or a cop. 

They ascended the steps in front of the building.   
"Down that hall is the main elevator. Her office is on the right just after you get out. Can't miss it."   
Hawke nodded.   
"All right then, see you later!"   
Hawke followed Varric's directions to a sizeable elevator. Anders had wandered off somewhere else. The elevator vibrated a bit as it went up-a product of age then chimed dimly when it landed on the second floor. The door slid open with a slight shudder.   
She walked to the room Varric told her. It was a medium size room with hard flourescent lighting and worn carpeting stained by far too many cups of coffee. City watch employees sat at a small table chatting with each other, neat piles of paperwork in front of both.   
Hawke walked up to what she assumed was the reception desk. Behind the desk was a middle aged man with large glasses and a bushy beard that was just beginning to visibly gray. He looked up from his computer screen. "Yes? Can I help you?"   
"I'm looking for Aveline. I'm Investigator Hawke."   
"Hawke, Hawke..." he perused the screen. "Ah yes, I see your name. One moment."   
He looked at Hawke and dialed on the phone nearby. Hawke's ring tightened in warning on her finger, and Hawke saw on the directory Aveline's office. But that was not the number the receptionist called.   
"Mhm, yes, yes mhm," the clerk looked at Hawke while he talked. "Yes, right away. Yup, yup. Okay," he said. Then he hung up and smiled. The smile was as fake as any she had seen.   
"So, will she see me?"   
"I'm afraid there's a bit of a change in plans. Aveline will not see you."   
Hawke's ring tightened on her finger as the back door opened and two well muscled Qunari walked in. One was a Qunari female, another a Qunari male. Hawke heard the office door shut and click locked and out of the corner of her eye she saw the two chatting City Guard stand up from their table and walk toward her. The Qunari walked forward slowly, in no particular hurry. Confident.   
Hawke's ring tightened.   
"Sold me out?" she asked the clerk. "Aveline's not here is she?"   
The clerk shrugged. "We all do what we have to do."   
"Including treason?"   
"Depends what your definition is, but maybe," the clerk said non commitally. He nodded toward the Qunari and the two approached her even closer.   
She noticed the two city guard just standing there. They didn't move-it was clear they were meant to only stop her from leaving the way she came.   
Then she heard a sound like a loud thump. Once. The Qunari stopped their advance and looked around. Another loud thump.   
"What the-!?" one of the city guard said. "oomph!" then she turned to see both city guard tumble unconscious. Another loud thump and a hiss.   
"Vrashek," the Qunari male growled. Too late, the chamber started to fill with a slight haze that grew a little stronger. The sigils on the Qunari's skin started to pulse and writhe and the Qunari moaned in pain, buckling to their knees.   
The clerk looked around first at Hawke then the city watch then the agonized Qunari and bolted toward the back door. Before he could flee, he was stopped by three hooded, masked persons.   
"Hello Michael," one of the hooded figures said. The man was about to scream when a gloved hand pressed firmly around his mouth and a glint of something metallic in the haze. The clerk's body seized up and crumbled in a series of subconscious twisting. He crumpled to the ground.   
"This your friend, Varric?" the hooded person said. Varric shuffled into view with a smile, Anders beside him. The room was already beginning to get crowded. "None other," Varric said. "Now let's go and rescue Aveline, eh?"   
The hooded assemblage nodded. "An honor, Ms Hawke. Varric speaks highly of you." Then they disappeared out the back door where the Qunari had come from. Hawke maneuvered around the tasered clerk and the pain gripped Qunari. 

Hawke followed the hurried assemblage, noting as she did more Qunari writhing in pain, their symbols on their skin moving like things alive. The procession moved silently down flights of stairs down, down. Finally they reached a floor where the procession stopped. Compared to all the other floors, this floor was considerably darker, with cells lining either side and a narrow aisle dividing the cell lines. The hooded figures kept up their pace with Hawke left to keep up.   
They finally reached an occupied cell with a tall woman slumped against the right cell wall. Her hair was a rich orange red and her face was scratched and dirty. Just how long had she been in here?   
"Watch my back," Varric told the hooded figures. The persons spread out on either side, one gliding past Hawke. Varric knelt in front of the locked door, tapping his chin. Then he pulled out a lockpicking kit and set to work. Hawke saw his fingers move with a grace she wouldnt have believed if she heard the tale. The man was an expert. Moments passed and the lock clicked open with a reserved sigh then the door moaned open. "Presto," Varric said dramatically.   
Aveline looked up.   
"Varric? Anders? is that you?" Aveline asked weakly.   
"Yep. I'm sorry it took so long," Varric said. "Hawke's here too. Turns out she was looking for you too."   
Aveline sighed. "That's great Varric. Can you help me up?"   
"Yeah. Let's get you out of here."   
So the unlikely party emerged slowly from the depths of the City Watch building. Qunari and other traitors were prowling the grounds in front of the building.   
So many questions, and precious few answers.


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter 7 

"Hawke?" Aveline asked weakly. Hawke rubbed her eyes-Varric was away getting breakfast for Hawke and himself. The nurses had suggested that someone stay with her.   
"I'm here," Hawke said.   
Aveline smiled weakly and laid back down in her hospital bed. "How's it look?"   
"Doctors said you're harder than you look," Hawke said.   
"I suppose," Aveline said. "Varric's a good person, you know?"   
"Hmm?"   
"I just...don't want you to get the wrong impression of him, I suppose," Aveline said with a sigh. "He needs a good friend more than anything in the world."   
"You think that's me?"   
"Maybe," she said. "He's taken a shine to you in a way he rarely has with anyone. Talked you up and everything," she said.   
"Huh," Hawke said. She didn't know what else to say.   
There was silence for a few moments.   
"Any idea what's happening out there?" Aveline asked.   
"Nothing concrete," Hawke said. "Some fighting in the streets. Chantry forces are cracking down hard. To be honest, I was more concerned with getting you back on your feet. Varric seemed to think you'd be able to help me."   
Aveline nodded but said nothing for a bit. "Mind turning on the tv for me Hawke?"   
"Sure. Any particular channel?"   
"Your choice. I just...need the background noise I think."   
"Fair enough," Hawke replied. 

She flipped through the channels-a few fairly monotonous talk shows, a cooking show.   
"Stop," Aveline said. "Let's listen to this one."   
Hawke flipped back to the aforementioned channel. 

Even in a tv studio, Meredith was as frigid as ice. She stepped up to a makeshift podium, flashes exploding all around her. The microphone hummed.   
"My fellow citizens of Kirkwall, I appeal to your sense of order and discipline in these troubling times. We are in an unprecedented era, where our own countrymen threaten to destroy the social order we have worked so hard to maintain. They cry for revolution, but at what cost I ask you? If the mages are shackled as these revolutionaries call for they will still be free to become abominations! If these heathens are heeded with their Chant-less life, what will become of us? We have persevered, brothers and sisters of Kirkwall, because of our consciousness of faith, our determination, our work. Now these fanatics are at our door, fighting in the streets. Chaos! I ask you Chantry fearing folk to trust in the Templars and their allies in the City Watch. We will hunt down and punish all those who threaten our way of life. We will bring back order, this I promise you! Stay in your homes, do not venture out unless you absolutely must and pray to the Maker we will prevail! Thank you my fellow Kirkwall citizens for your time, and we will see each other soon."   
"So...martial law," Aveline mused.   
"Sounds like it."   
"You know, I heard rumors of an old place in the old part of town," Aveline said. "Once I'm healed I can see about the documents-I think it belongs to you, though I'm not sure. We can use that as our base as we figure out what's going on."   
"You're not down with Meredith's plan?"   
"You're not," Aveline said. "I saw your skeptical look, and something tells me I can trust you, Investigator."   
"I met her in the train. There's something...off about her. Something very, very wrong."   
"How so?"   
"Its hard to describe, but I saw those red templars before I saw her search the train. She felt like them, but fiercer. She's dangerous is all I know."   
"Fair enough." 

Varric stepped in and closed the door behind him.   
"What's wrong, Varric?"   
"We gotta get you and Aveline out of here," Varric said. He was visibly worried. "Those bastards are in the hospital. I think several of the orderlies are with them, based on what I could hear."   
"But how? She can barely stand, let alone walk."   
"We gotta figure it out, and we gotta figure it out now. I think some of those nurses are planning on killing Aveline."   
"Alright, alright. We'll follow your lead, Varric," Hawke said. Varric nodded. He picked up one of the chairs and braced it against the door he just came in from, carefully resting against the door knob. Both Hawke and Varric quickly but carefully untethered her from all her equipment and Hawke grabbed her and hauled her up so most of her weight was leaning on Hawke's upper body.   
Varric lead them out a side door and past some orderlies. Sure enough, Qunari and orderlies, nurses and so on were all quietly conversing. One of the nurses Hawke recognized knocked on the door, and gestured to a big Qunari and a couple others. The nurse tried the door and grunted. 

Hawke wasn't sure how it happened, but they managed to get off the floor Aveline was on and down to the main floor.   
Then, just as they exited the hospital and made it down the road, an immaculately dressed elf with shimmering blue-white marks on his face and hands stepped up to them and put up a hand. He quickly surveyed them, then his expression alighted when he saw Varric and even Hawke.   
"My name is Fenris, I'm a friend. Anders told me where you probably would be, I'm just glad I found you in time."   
"Fenris? Aren't you on the run too?" Varric countered.   
The elf grinned fiercely. "Not anymore. This way, if you please. Anders and help are waiting. Real help this time," he added.   
Varric shrugged. Nothing to it-Aveline needed help, and there were people out to kill her. They had to get out of here.   
They followed Fenris' lead to a sleek, fancy car. Fenris helped Hawke gently load Aveline into the backseat, then the company followed and Fenris motioned to the driver. The car pulled out just as flashlights pierced the darkness-hunters. The trap was closing in, and their team had just barely escaped its clutches.


End file.
